Cryptic?
by limitedvocab
Summary: Tryan. Troy and Ryan devised a way to talk dirty, without actually sounding dirty. Little do they know that two men, their teachers, were eavesdropping on their conversation.


**Cryptic???:**

They always called him The Wise. Perhaps it was the wrinkles on his solid face structure that had somehow reminded his Physics students of an ancient mage or sorcerer from some fantasy fiction.

"I call them the dark matter," The Wise muttered from his seat as he watched a young man standing before him.

The young man – no older than thirty – was East High math teacher. A man who was madly in love with numbers and equations, that even with his good looks, he failed to charm any woman, other than Miss Montez – who did not understand his cold reaction toward her. He arched his brows as he glanced over his shoulders. "Dark matter?"

"Yes. The dark matter," The Wise answered, a frown resting on his forehead as he continued marking his papers. "The attraction between the two interacting bodies can be assigned as the dark energy."

The math teacher frowned and replied snidely, "How profound."

This was the part where a mathematician and a physicist found trouble comprehending and interacting. The mathematician believed that the physicist was going senile while the physicist thought that the mathematician was simply inapt in the world of academia.

"Here they come…It's so odd to see them here after school." the younger teacher mumbled.

"Is it a hobby of yours to eavesdrop on other's personal conversations?" The Wise questioned, eyes not leaving the papers.

"Who was the one who piqued my interest?" the math teacher growled softly.

"Since you love puzzles and riddles so much, I believed this should suit you very well," answered The Wise.

"I believe you have already _decoded_ their conversation," the math teacher said.

The Wise smiled and nodded. "When you are forced to hear it a thousand times, it pretty much auto _decodes_."

* * *

Troy Bolton beamed warmly as he placed a pile of reference books before his beloved, Ryan Evans. "There, got you what you wanted."

The blond raised his head and smiled, "Thanks."

Troy smiled and took the seat opposite the blond, blue-grey eyes studying the clear, calm countenance of Ryan Evans. In his mind, no one could ever replace his beloved in beauty, generosity, intelligence, humour, sex…

…Yes, sex.

"Something on my face?" Ryan asked, clear blue eyes meeting blue-grey ones.

"Huh? Nothing!" Troy laughed nervously only to be shushed by the stern librarian.

* * *

"Well, they have not started their little conversation yet," the young man muttered, satisfied.

"Is that good?" The Wise queried with raised bows. "This would mean a wasted trip for you."

The young math teacher stared at The Wise and scowled. "Yes, this would appear to be a wasted trip. But a good wasted trip. They are pretty darn obvious if you ask me…Just from their expression I could tell," he commented dryly. "How come nobody noticed a thing?"

"Well, maybe it is because that we are aware of their dark…sorry, their affection," The Wise answered.

"I wonder if Coach Bolton knows about this."

"I doubt anyone, other than us and them, knows about it."

* * *

"Well, mathematics is a young man's game," Troy said with a quick smile. Well, it was about time to play their favourite game...and it had nothing to do with mathematics.

Ryan quirked his brows as he felt Bolton's hand on his thigh. "Why so?" the blond asked cheekily.

"Take Newton for example. February 1665, binomial theorem, May 1665, tangents, September 1665, gravity, November 1665, calculus, January 1666, colours and May 1666, integral calculus. All these great ideas came to him when he was twenty three or twenty four," Troy explained as he slowly worked his hands upward.

"Are you forgetting Carl Friedrich Gauss? His published his memoir of differential geometry at the age of fifty," Ryan smirked, as he crossed his legs and slapped Troy's hand away.

"But the idea came to him when he was forty," Bolton grinned. "Allow me to quote a sentence from G. H. Hardy's work, 'I do not know an instance of a major mathematical advance initiated by a man past fifty.'"

* * *

"Great, now I can't think of Newton straight," the math teacher complained, cringing.

"Gauss?"

"Him too," the younger man said and shuddered. "I can't believe my ears. They sound cerebral."

"You know them. Anything intellectual is only an implication of their wanton lust," The Wise remarked as he read Montez's essay. "Your girlfriend made some minor mistakes."

"For the last time, old man, she is not my girlfriend!" the math teacher snapped.

* * *

"There is always the dream of a mathematician to create a new theorem…Something as great as calculus, or even better. Something that would aid mankind in the advancement of science. Time never favours the mathematician and he knows," Troy whispered, hands pulling Ryan's legs apart.

Ryan shivered at those words. He knew that tone. It was dark and demanding. His breath hitched as he felt strong, talented hand caressed his thighs. The soft chink of his belt buckle snapped him awake. Bolton sure was horny, the blond commented inwardly.

No, he would not make it so easy for the brunet. "So what if the mathematician knows? He would be creating another utterly useless theorem."

Troy chuckled, "But there will always be a physicist who has a use for it."

Ryan raised his brows as Bolton fingers worked on his zip. "Really?" Ryan managed to ask in a steady voice.

"Really," Troy said and to prove his words, he lifted his bag and showed the blond its contents.

Impressed, the blond smiled and relaxed his tensed body. "I am thinking of Newton. Twenty four you say? I certainly do not want the mathematician to lose his amusement by fifty," Ryan replied as he guided Bolton's hand into his pants.

"But is this the right theorem for you, physicist? Did you have a clear look at it?" Troy asked with a smirk, as he lifted a silver item with his free hand from his bag.

Ryan gasped and purred, "Dead certain."

* * *

"That's a long way to say _I want sex_." Their math teacher cringed.

"Kinky sex," The Wise corrected.

* * *

**Author:** I doubt anyone can dechiper their words, especially the first part. Some of the words are implication. Some are just for cover or to please Ryan. The age thing was actually refering to the time, Bolton want sex...soon. Ryan was not exactly keen on the idea at first. The theorem, refers to some kinky sex altar that he had set up to be used later for a biological event between him and Evans. Some people actually talk like that, in a library. And like The Wise, it pretty much auto decodes.


End file.
